I probably shouldn't make such a big deal about it, but I do. Family Dinners are super important to me.
It has nothing to do with surveys or statistics. Although statistics are on the side of regular family dinners for keeping families connected and eating well.
Family Dinners are kind of sacred around here.
Confession: I don't always cook Cuban. But I do cook a lot. And there are always vegetables and salads and lots of variety in the main dishes, although we're mostly unapologetic carnivores.
My rules are that 1) dinner must be delicious and 2) phones must be off. The exception to the turning-off-phone rule is that you may take photos of your food, and you may even Instagram it, which everyone knows is why God gave us smart phones.
I know the Family Dinner thing is hopelessly old-fashioned. But as everyone has gotten busier, it seems to be the only place where we consistently connect and share as a family. I miss not having my older kids here as much, as they've gotten on with their busy lives. But when they are here we make it a point to have a feast.
In the interest of full disclosure, we also order pizza and take out Chinese food. But even then, we sit at our places and slow down enough to spend time together. Did I tell you that everyone has their own place at the table? (I know. Shut up.)
Ironically, yesterday, as I was working on this post, I had a terrible fibro episode. I did not even make dinner and every man was on his own. Those times make me glad that we have so many everybody-sit-down-together type meals. The free-for-all is much more the exception, rather than the rule.
I think the need to feed people and have them around the table comes from my happiest memories of my Cuban childhood. The Family Table was sacred. There was always lively conversation and delicious food. I wish we had more moments like this in our lives. This is why I've become so intentional in making Dinner Time so important.
In the Movie of My Life, most of the scenes and family exchanges will take place around the dinner table. In that silver-screen-fantasy there will also be someone else who cleans up after the meal, but that's not important right now.
When I see the faces of the ones I love best as they laugh and share and we listen to the stories about who said what and how their days went, there's no question that this is a good and solid tradition.
Go and grab yourself a nice, hot cafecito and make yourself comfortable. This post is going to be long and newsy. I'm about to seriously dish about the new TV sitcom, Wassup En LA? with lots of details and tons of photos about the project. (This is why you love me, right?)
I promised you a few weeks ago that I would write about the making of Wassup En LA? in great detail. I have so much to share with you about why I think this show is going to be fantastic and why I believe it's going to be must-see TV, but let me back up a bit.
Here I am with Wassup En LA? creators, Rudolpho Zalez and Carlos de la Vega. At Porto's, of course.
The co-creators of Wassup, Rudolpho Zalez and Carlos de la Vega envisioned a good, old-fashioned TV sitcom. In their vision, they wanted to follow in the footsteps of old-school, family-themed TV classics, such as "I Love Lucy," "The Cosby Show, "Chico and the Man," and "¿Que Pasa, U.S.A.?"
Family friendly TV? Yes, please.
The premise is already hilarious:
Manolito Diaz has dreams of making it big as a Hollywood actor. His Cuban family is extremely supportive. In typical Cuban style, his mom and dad show their support by moving the family from Miami to Los Angeles to help their son reach his dream. They bring along his reluctant-to-leave-Miami sister and, of course the very deliciously Cuban abuelos.
Meet the fictional Diaz family:
From left to right: Oscar Torre as Pepe Diaz, Jean Paul San Pedro as
Manolito Diaz, Nicole Garcia as Teresita Diaz, Nelida Ponce as Eufemia
Olga Diaz, Gerardo Riverón as Alfredo Figueroa Diaz, and Jezabel Montero
as Rosa Maria Diaz.
As I understand it, the entire first season has already been written. The taping we attended on March 23rd involved the shooting of the pilot episode and also a few scenes from various key moments from the rest of the season.
So, for those of you asking where you can see it, there's no good answer for that....yet. The show is still in the works. The scenes that were filmed on the 23rd are still in the post-production phase. It's quite an exciting (and nerve-wracking) time for all involved.
Preparation
You'll recall that the producers called and asked if I had any Cuban-looking props for the set. Of course, I was happy to oblige. My kids and I willingly drove up to L.A. to deliver the goods. (I'm willing to drive to any area code where a Porto's can be found. I know. Shut up.)
Much to our everlasting delight, we got to visit the studio where the live taping was going to happen.
Jonathan, Lucy, and I dropping off our Cuban props (Hey! That works on two levels!) at CML Studios.
We got to watch the beautiful set being built.
And we got to sit in on one of the rehearsals.
Director Rudolpho Zalez getting the perfect reaction from Jezabel Montero (Rosa Maria Diaz).
Let me stop right here and tell you about the cast.
The Cast
The first members of the cast that we met were Gerardo Riverón and Nelida Ponce, who play the abuelos, Alfredo and Eufemia. For me, it was love at first sight. Both accomplished actors, in their own right, they brought the "Cubaneo" from Miami to the Diaz dinner table. I love that even as they delivered lines in Spanish and Spanglish and broken English, they were always translated beautifully as part of the family dialogue, which is not easy to do.
Kudos to the writers for making them completely Cuban and perfectly accessible to the American audience. Or as we Cubans say, "Se la comieron." Which translates literally to "They ate it." It's a Cuban idiom that means they fantastically exceeded all expectations. (See what I mean? Not easy.)
Here's Nelida (Abuela) showing the next generation how it's done:
Jezabel Montero (daughter of the iconic telenovela beauty, Zully Montero) plays Rosa Maria, the mom. She's an absolute joy to watch as she effortlessly portrays everyone's Cuban American mami. I'd like to interject here that she is a lovely, blond haired, blue-eyed beauty, which is so very typically Cuban (believe it). Smart, funny and oh, so approachable. She's exactly who you would want for a next door neighbor, co-worker, or best friend.
MBFCF, meet the lovely and talented, Jezabel Montero and the fabulously versatile, Oscar Torre. That's me in the center of this look-at-all-this-Cuban-talent sandwich.
Oscar Torre plays Pepe Diaz. He is the quintessential Cuban dad. All Cuban perfection in his tone and delivery. The ideal blend of seriousness and tenderness. There's a particularly beautiful scene in which Pepe reminds his son, Manolito (Jean Paul San Pedro) what a family is truly all about. I may or may not have cried a little during that scene. (Also, please notice my Cuban souvenir mini-conga set on Manolito's dresser, but that's not important right now.)
"No family is perfect. But be thankful you
have one that loves and supports you."
Nicole Garcia plays the smart-alecky sister, Teresita, who hates that they left their lives in Miami to help Manolito chase his dream. She plays the role with a perfect balance of snark and sweetness that's almost breathtaking. I know Teresita. She's all the Cuban friends I grew up with.
And, of course, the one who brings them all to L.A. as he chases his dreams of stardom, Manolito, expertly brought to you by Jean Paul San Pedro. Watch the following video and fall in love with Manolito.
You're totally pulling for him already, aren't you? I know.
The Taping
The taping went on for the entire day. We arrived around 1:00 PM for the 3:30 PM taping, which was sort of happening on "Cuban time" which was more like 4-ish.
I expected to enjoy the show. Hello? A Cuban family. On TV. What's not to like? I often felt growing up, that our everyday family interactions were worthy of a sitcom. I think most of us who grew up Cuban felt that way. I think that's why many of you relate to me here on MBFCF, and why we Cubans all so passionately love ¿Que Pasa, USA? These are our people. Our stories. Our lives.
Seriously, I have to say it again: Se la comieron. (Just to review: "They ate it." In other words, they fantastically exceeded all expectations.)
Both Eric and I were floored by what great chemistry the cast had with each other. Did I already mention that the entire cast consists of real Cuban Americans? (As God intended.) They were truly believable as a family. As a Cuban family.
My favorite moment of Cubanity (<--that should sooo be a word) happened as the family was gathered at the dinner table.
The director's cue was: "El Cubaneo. Go!"
The family starts talking all at once and over each other. Genius. That's dinner every night at our house, people. I know you know what I'm talking about.
Pepe, the dad prays before the meal. Mostly for patience on the 405. LOVE.
The script was beautifully written. The comedic timing of the actors dead on. The actors were there from 6:00 AM to almost 10:00 PM. And for every take they were both fresh and funny. Every. Time. Seriously.
I'd like to interject here that obviously the appeal to me, personally, was that the hilarity all takes place in a Cuban family. And while that was both familiar and priceless, let me reassure you, the family interactions are of the every day variety. Bickering was balanced by caring. Misunderstanding complemented by tenderness. The only difference being that they were a little bit louder. And they rolled their R's.
I want to know these people in my real life. Yeah. That, right there? Makes this sitcom a total winner in my book.
The shooting of the pilot took about 7 hours. We were entertained in between the hurry-up-and-waiting by live Cuban music, the awesome comedy of Fernando Duran and "snacks" from Porto's Bakery.
Pastelitos de carne. Pastelitos de guayaba. From Porto's Bakery. Amen.
The shooting of the pilot wrapped up around 9:00 PM and we stuck around to watch them film a few scenes from other episodes.
From the episode: "One quality plate is better than a buffet," Pepe gives Manolito and his friends dating guidelines. I must reiterate that Oscar Torre gives the perfect Cuban papi performance. He is the Cuban "Everyman."
The best friends, Allen, played by Pritesh Shah, and Judd, played by Aaron Kuban.
The supporting cast of friends, Pritesh Shah, Aaron Kuban, and Keila Hamilton (as Teresita's friend, Tawana) were all superb as complementary characters to the Diaz family. (I think I'm running out of superlatives here.) Oh, how I wish this show were on the air already!
I encourage all of you, my friends, to support the effort to get this brilliant sitcom on TV. You can help in the following ways:
Go love them on Facebook. Follow them on Twitter. Subscribe to their YouTube Channel (be prepared to get hooked on these characters). Share with your friends. Get the word out. We need their kind of magic on TV.
The show is not only family-friendly, but beautifully written and the performances were all fantastic. So entertaining. So fun to watch. So positive and frankly, uplifting. Just like the shows I grew up watching and loving as a kid. I promise to keep you informed as soon as I know anything about where and when it can be seen.
The fabulously talented Oscar Torre and Jean Paul San Pedro with a very star-struck and satisfied Cuban blogger.
Thank you, again, Rudolpho and Carlos and the beautiful cast and hard working crew for your tireless energy, perseverance, and faith to see this thing through. I'm waiting, rather impatiently, to see what happens next with Wassup En LA?
How fabulous would it be if we could get 99 RED Balloons for the party? (Inspired by the 80's song of the same name, but that's not important right now.)
I took it up just a notch and asked everyone to please wear RED. And to bring her a RED gift. (Did I mention that my mom loves themes?)
So we had the party and I was struck with just how delighted Luza was with her 99 RED Balloons. Actually, everyone was struck with how fantastic they were.
When I originally went to order them, the guy at the party store asked if I didn't want 100. "No, thank you. There must be exactly 99." I know that my mom is a little OCD and that she would count. (She did.)
Here's Luza in all her 99 RED Balloon Glory:
What a fun and fitting way to celebrate her 99 years of life and the joy she's given all of us.
I'll never, ever forget the look on her face when she was surrounded by so much RED and so much love.
I have been taking a hiatus to get myself well again from being sick for the first part of this year. (Thank you, Vicks VaPoRub for your constant support.)
I'm 100% better and I'm ready to jump back into blog-world. I had a feeling-sorry-for-myself-emotionally-fragile moment of "I wonder if anyone even remembers me?"
This morning I wake up to this in my Facebook news feed, which was like a shot of adrenaline.
Wait! Is that my face? Shut. UP. I feel sooo accidentally cool!
I may or may not have shed a quick tear. Gracias, Wassup En LA?I'm back. Pastelitos and all.
When we first moved into our present home eleven years ago, I had a vision of what I wanted along the wall of the stairwell. I wanted a sepia toned collection of family photos, old and new.
The black and white photos and the brown sepia tones would be the unifying factor between the Now and Then look.
It all started with a photo of my dad. A self-portrait he had taken sitting perfectly still playing with a long exposure. He was working on what was then known as the Isle of Pines (Isla de Pino) and had grown a beard and wanted to document this momentous occasion for my mom to see.
I always loved the photo of Papi. He looked so young and so "Indiana Jonesy." So, I had it framed years before and it hung in my parents' home for years. My mom gave it to me as a gift when I moved into this house and I still treasure it.
Also, I found a poster of an old photo of my sisters and me on the beach in Varadero Beach in Cuba, circa 1958. I had that blown up back in the early 70's and had it mounted on a plaque and so I get to enjoy it every single day.
So, I had my idea and I added to it photos of family and some vinyl lettering with the year we got married. And I added a scripture that I felt added to the feel. I had a custom stencil made and painted it directly on the wall.
From the book of Job 5:25, it says in Spanish:
“Sabras que tu descendencia es mucha, y tu prole como la hierba de la tierra.”
In English:
“You will know also that your descendants will be many, and your offspring as the grass of the Earth.”
I truly love the way the wall came together and expresses the "old timey" feel I wanted. When I come down the stairs I remember my dad, who passed away 13 years ago. He was pretty brilliant and had a delicious sense of humor. I love the photo of him and picture the moment of him, so many years ago, doing his painstaking self-portrait.
This past New Year's Eve, we had a party and there were fake mustaches involved, but that's not important right now.
You know how you see something every single day so that it gets to a point that you don't really "see" it? Yes. That's me. All the time.
Imagine my surprise when I came down the stairs and noticed this:
I laughed out loud and thought, "Papi would have loved this."
I write just about every day in my journal. I use the pages to rant and complain so that I don't do as much of it here in this public space. In my journal, I write about my fears, my worries, my hopes, and my dreams. Some days I just write about how tired I am (which admittedly is not the best blog-fodder, but that's not important right now).
2012 was a wonderful year for us, but also full of many challenges. Looking back at my Year in Review, I can see that I completely skipped over some events because I got busy, or I got tired, or maybe I guess I just didn't know how to write about them.
My mom, Luza is 98 and will be celebrating 99 years on this earth in another month. She still has much of her spunk and style, but the truth is that age and passing time are taking their toll.
She is forgetting. Not just little things like what she had for breakfast, but bigger things, like the name of a grandchild, or how many daughters she has, or what city she is in. And I hate it.
It doesn't happen often, but it's very disconcerting when it does. My mother is not supposed to get old. She's not supposed to get senile. Age is just relative, right?
This past year has been spent juggling her changing needs and my corresponding emotions. She has become more childlike. I play the role of the adult.
Of course, in the other roles I take on, I'm functioning as the adult most days. I just don't like that my relationship with my mother is flipping. That I have become the caretaker. I am the one who makes sure she has been properly fed and gets her nap. She gets mean and cranky some days. It's part of the process. And I don't like it.
I don't like what it portends. I don't like the fears it brings up. And I don't like how I'm reacting.
My mom is getting old. And so am I.
I'm afraid, and I am not handling this part of my life very well. So I haven't written about it until now.
The tears feel foreign. My relationship with my mom, while not perfect, has been, for the most part, fun. But that's changing. And I don't like it. And I don't know how to write about it. So I'm cobbling together this post with the fearful words. Her life is winding down. And I'm just plain afraid.
So I spent most of 2012 swimming around in these feelings and not sharing them. Because it didn't seem appropriate for this blog. But I am intending to keep it real in this new year. And while this is not pretty, it's very real.
One of the things that my mother taught me well was how to stuff my emotions. Of course, there were never formal "Stuffing Your Emotions" lessons, still I was groomed to not react negatively to anything. So these strong and painful emotions I'm experiencing right now are stuffed somewhere in my neck and shoulders. The pain I'm not feeling, my body is feeling for me in my joints and sleeplessness.
As I'm busy trying to stuff my pain, my body just aches and practically cripples me with the unspoken grief.
I intend to get better at this. I intend to speak out more. This is, after all, the Truth. And I'm a big believer in the Truth having the power to set me free.
So I write this in part as catharsis. In part as encouragement.
To all of you Daughters of Aging Cuban Mothers. I encourage you to embrace the difficult changes and know that Life Goes On. Let's be strong models of poise and grace and genuineness for our own daughters. They deserve better.
Thanksgiving is obviously a very uniquely American holiday. Which is the perfect time for us to celebrate because we're a uniquely American family. Cuban-American, that is.
I have the privilege of hosting my big, fat, Cuban family here in my home this year. It's going to be a smaller group than usual. Only about 20 of us, because not everyone will be here.
So, we're busy moving furniture (did I mention that our home is freakishly small?) and setting up tables. My sisters and I are texting, emailing, and calling each other to coordinate the menu and the details of the thing.
It's a wonderful excuse to get together and say thank you to God collectively for the many blessings we enjoy.
I'm grateful to all of you who regularly read my blog and let me (over)share the day-to-day happenings in my little world. I thank God for each and every one of you faithful readers. I'm grateful also for all of you who follow me over on my Facebook page. If you don't already, please click here and join the relajo over there.
I'll be taking the rest of this week off from blogging to feed my people and to enjoy some down-time with my family. If you're new here, feel free to look around and if you've been here for a while, check out some of the Linked Within posts at the bottom of each entry. You might just see something new.
I'll be back very soon with some fun giveaways and I'll regale you with stories of my oh-so-interesting-real-life adventures.
I sent out these invitations to my family who have already told me they were coming before they received them, but that's not important right now.
Wish you could make it! You're always welcome here. My blog-casa is your blog-casa.
First, I want to thank you all for your extraordinary participation and engagement this past week as I celebrate my 6th year in the land of Blogging.
Today, I want to share some of my own memories of “Cuando Sali de Cuba.”
The times that I remember the most from my childhood, come to me in the form of grainy super-8 film and fading snapshots. They are mostly family and beloved objects; things that any five-year-old might keep in an old and slightly torn shoe box. They are old and oh-so-faded. Not much value outside of my own little life.
left to right: Miriam, Marta (me!), Alina. Varadero, 1957.
My most vivid memories of “aquel entonces,” which I've often written about in this space, are of our summers spent at the beach in Varadero, Cuba.
The summers in Havana, you see, were brutally hot. So we summered (<--is that a word?) in Varadero. The most beautiful beach in the world. According to my mom, Luza, it's where I took my very first steps in the summer of 1956.
We have home movies of those precious times. And photographs. I am guessing that because it was such a carefree era in our lives, there was plenty of time to stop and capture the everyday. My dad and uncle with their cameras following us little girls in our Catalina swimsuits as we splashed around in the azure surf eating mamoncillos.
The cousins would spend the summers with us. We all got to choose our “salvavidas,” (translation: “lifesavers”) which in retrospect is some sort of cruel joke. People, I had an inflatable duck that was supposed to be a life-saving device. What delicious innocence.
left to right: Alina, Ferdy, Maria-Elvira, Ileana, Miriam, Marta (me!). Varadero 1960.
I can still taste the warm salt water. I remember chasing the bright red crabs along the beach. I remember the agony of having to follow The 3-Hour Rule, which stated that you could not go swimming after eating until you had waited 3 hours for your digestion to be completed. (Cuban child abuse.)
The nostalgia of these sweet moments is vivid. My sisters and I disagree on the memories at times. We will argue, as only Cuban sisters can. They insist I was too young to remember anything. I describe something from that time that I can recall with great detail. They act surprised. It's a complicated and familiar dance we do, tripping through the recollections of what was once an idylic childhood.
I write down what I can remember here on this blog. I write about yesterday and today and my hopes for tomorrow. I share my stories. I share your stories. And I've been doing it in this space, with your encouragement, for 6 years now. (And today just happens to be the 6th. Coincidence? I think not.)
Speaking of 6 years...I celebrated my 6th birthday here in the U.S. - No more Varadero summers for us. The remembrances of holidays spent at the most beautiful beach in the world have all but faded, but they have never completely diminished.
Life was good. Then we lost everything. Then we found the good again. It's the circle of life.
**********************************
MBFCF Blogiversary Giveaway #6:
A Varadero Sign (handpainted by yours truly)
That's right. A hand-painted-by-me (shut up. I know!) Varadero Sign. (It's wooden. About 18 inches long and suitable for hanging. I have a plan to open an Etsy shop very soon. Today is not that day, but that's not important right now.)
Painted in aqua with the name of The Most Beautiful Beach in the World: Varadero.
Please leave a comment on this post for a chance to win this beautiful hand-painted Varadero sign (by me, people!). Answer one or all of the following questions:
Is there a particular place that dominates your childhood memories?
Do any of you have memories of Varadero?
Were you forced to follow The 3 Hour Rule?
I'll choose a winner at the end of MBFCF Blogiversary Giveaway Week on Monday, October 8th, 2012 at 11 am.
